


Let Me Sleep It Off

by iamtheprophet_chuck



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, First Time, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Travis is kind of an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtheprophet_chuck/pseuds/iamtheprophet_chuck
Summary: “Dammit, TK,” Giroux mutters under his breath as he watches Travis walk into the locker room.  His sweats are wrinkled, and he’s got sunglasses on even though G knows it’s threatening to rain outside and nowhere near sunny.  He raises his voice so TK can hear him.“Are you fucking hung over?”  TK levels a glare at G that is frankly impressive given that he can’t even see his eyes.Or: TK takes to fucking his troubles away and it's unsurprisingly a disaster.





	Let Me Sleep It Off

“Dammit, TK,” Giroux mutters under his breath as he watches Travis walk into the locker room. His sweats are wrinkled, and he’s got sunglasses on even though G knows it’s threatening to rain outside and nowhere near sunny. He raises his voice so TK can hear him. 

 

“Are you fucking hung over?” TK levels a glare at G that is frankly impressive given that he can’t even see his eyes. 

 

“Seeing as I can’t buy a beer in this fucking country, no. Just didn’t sleep well, I’m fine.”

 

If he could roll his eyes any harder he would. As it is G settles for twisting his mouth in distaste at TK and turning back to his stall to pull his practice jersey on over his pads. He tosses a “Get your gear on and hurry the fuck up,” in Travis’ direction as he clomps out toward the ice. 

 

The problem is, that this isn’t the first time TK has shown up to a morning skate looking wrecked. And G knows the fact that he’s been struggling to score, and healthy scratched a couple times is wearing on him, but he isn’t going to get anywhere if he spirals. G sympathizes, he was a small kid in the league once too. But there’s only so much sympathy to go around before he needs a kick in the ass.

 

G skates over to Provy on the ice while the team is warming up waiting for the stragglers.

 

“Hey, you need to talk to your boy,” he says, voice low. Provy’s brow furrows in concern. G doesn’t want to put this on Ivan but he knows TK won’t listen to authority when he gets like this. He’ll only bristle and dig his heels in deeper if Claude tries to say anything. 

 

“What happened?” His voice is worried, and Claude hates that he put that there.

 

“I don’t know but he showed up wrecked again this morning and it needs to stop. He’s not helping anyone if he’s not even sleeping. Is he like-” G trails off there, not wanting to ask if somehow the rookie had somehow already gotten himself into like, drugs. Or something. Whatever the young stupid kids do when they’re suddenly wealthy and vaguely famous. 

 

To Claude’s relief Provy wrinkles his nose and looks at Claude with an expression declaring he clearly things he’s an idiot.

 

“No, dude. He’s fine, he just needs to stop trying to fuck his problems away. And he needs a damn goal,” Provy says with a frustrated huff.

 

“Fuckin right,” G agrees, before Hak calls the group to attention and they all skate to center ice to begin skate.

 

\--

 

Travis slams his way into his apartment after skate. Fucking Claude fucking Giroux thinking he knows everything about him like he knows what’s best for him. He can’t catch a fucking break on the ice, the puck hasn’t gone in for him in over 10 games, and Hakstol keeps watching him like he’s about 1 bad shift away from scratching Travis indefinitely. He hates it. He hates not scoring, he hates not living up to people’s expectations. He wants to put his dick in something and not think for a while. It feels like the only times he can get his stupid brain to stop re-running the greatest hits of his failure to hit the net is when he’s got a hot girl under him, or sucking him. Wet heat around his dick, an orgasm, relief from wallowing in this stupid misery, that’s what he needs.

 

Travis pulls out his cell phone and shoots off a quick text to Jessica, and after a second sends one to Emily too. Never hurts to cover your bases, and he’s in a hurry to get someone over here stat. It’s not romantic and he knows he’s being an asshole but he doesn’t really care.

 

Emily responds first, and agrees to come over, so TK just paces around the apartment while he waits. He’s so keyed up, he feels like he’s going to crawl out of his skin. It doesn’t take her more than 15 minutes to get there and Travis practically yanks her through the door before pressing her back against it and pressing his mouth to hers hard, pressing his tongue into her mouth with little finesse. He grips her hips harshly and pulls her against him, his cock already hard and needy.

 

Emily had gone pliant against him as soon as he’d pushed her against the door, and he pulls back and smirks at her.

 

“Fuck you’re so easy for it.” Her expression indicates he was maybe a little more blunt than he probably should’ve been but he can’t bring himself to care while his cock still rests neglected pressing against his zipper. TK decides to just roll with it, he knows she’ll still get him off he’s said worse in the past. 

 

“Couch or bed?” Emily scrunches her nose at him in distaste. He knows he should be nicer, he’s being such an ass.

 

“Couch, I guess. You really should be nicer to the girl who’s about to suck your dick. I have teeth you know.” Travis grimaces as he follows her into the living room. She gestures toward the couch vaguely impatiently. 

 

“Well? Let’s go hotshot, you want my mouth on your dick or no, because I’m blowing off class for you.”

 

That effectively kills any sympathy Travis was feeling. He knows she’s in college, and she likes banging a pro hockey player on the reg for the bragging rights to her fucking sorority sisters or whatever. Whatever. 

 

Travis collapses on the couch, feet flat on the floor, and spreads his knees wide. He hooks a thumb in his waistband framing the outline of his hard cock. 

 

Emily kneels down obligingly. She still looks a little pinched but with her mouth that close to his cock Travis can’t bring himself to care. And she’s got him out and in hand with practiced ease before he can blink. He sinks deeper into the couch as she works his cock with her hand, pulling the foreskin down to expose the head before she leans in to lick at his slit. 

 

“Fu-uck,” he groans. His thighs and abs tense as he holds himself back from thrusting up, chasing her mouth. He wants so much, but mostly he just wants to stop thinking, so damn bad.

 

“Fuck _come on_ ,” he whines as she teases the head with her thumb and she narrows her eyes at him before leaning in to mouth at his balls. She teases one ball and then the other with her tongue and lips before finally licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock tongue hot and wet against the shaft. She takes the head into her mouth and sucks. He can feel her tongue swirl around the head and lap as the slit before she bobs her head down and starts a steady rhythm.

 

He’s a simple man with simple tastes, and she’s not one of the girls who likes to draw things out so he just keeps his hips down as she works. He knows he’s breathing hard, her lips stretched around him are so hot he lets out a long moan after a particularly intense suck, and she pulls off briefly to stretch her jaw and catch her breath.

 

“Feeling better there? Less like an asshole?” She asks lightly.

 

“I’d feel better with your mouth back on my dick,” Travis replies but he’s smiling now and teasing, loose. He hasn’t even come yet but he already feels better, his mind clear for the moment.

 

Emily laughs and Travis is grateful he hasn’t totally fucked this up yet. He is still painfully hard though and desperate to come, so he pumps his hips up slightly, fucking his cock in her fist as a reminder. Emily laughs again but takes him back into her mouth.

 

It doesn’t take him much longer to come after that and Emily doesn’t ask for anything in return, just stands up and grabs her purse. 

 

“Mind if I use your bathroom? I need to brush my teeth and fix my lipstick.”

 

“Yeah, whatever.” Travis watches her ass as she walks away, and tucks himself back in his pants, hissing as he accidentally brushes the sensitive head against the zipper. 

 

Emily’s back in minutes, and stops in the living room to put her shoes back on. She looks him up and down until Travis feels vaguely scrutinized.

 

“You look like shit. If you don’t get some sleep or like, start reciprocating, girls are going to stop sleeping with you.”

 

“Thanks for the advice, but I didn’t hear any complaints.”

 

“Yeah well next time you’re going to fuck me until I actually come. Make it worth my time.” TK can only smirk at the thought. If he weren’t so fucked up about this scoring drought he might actually like to date someone like her. But before he can find anything to say back there’s a knock at the door. Emily raises her eyebrows at him. 

 

“Got another girl lined up already?” Travis actually laughs.

 

“No idea, but I’ll see you out.”

 

As soon as he sees Provy on the other side all the calm of the orgasm vanished and his brain started whirring again. _You’re going to get scratched. You better fucking score tonight you useless idiot. Can’t believe they drafted you in the first round they’re going to ship you off for nothing at this rate._

 

TK shakes his head to clear it and nods to Emily as she smiles and says a quick “hey,” to Provy on her way out.

 

Provy gestures at the door questioningly after it closes. 

 

“Was she here all day?”

 

“What? No. I texted her after skate.”

 

“Don’t you need a nap? Have you even eaten lunch yet?” Travis’ face twists and he thinks he sees something akin to regret in Provy’s face. It’s not enough to stop him from lashing out though.

 

“I do not fucking need this from you, too, Provy. Come on, I’ve got G all over my ass. Simmer pulled me aside last week to lecture me. I just needed to get laid fuck off.”

 

Provy’s expression doesn’t change. Fuck he was inscrutable sometimes. All the time. Travis sighs and starts back up, not wanting to hear what Provy has to say.

 

“What? Were you not coming over here to tell me that?” A wave of exhaustion hits Travis and suddenly he just wants to inhale his pregame pb&js and sleep for 4 hours before the game. “If you came over here to lecture me I don’t want to hear it. I just had a great orgasm which you’ve now ruined, and I know I’m a fuck up, and I know I’m letting everyone down because I can’t score a fucking goal, and I know I know I know.” Travis clamps his mouth shut as he feels his throat threaten to clench up, tears prickling his eyes. Fuck he was tired.

 

“I just came to talk, TK. Not lecture. You don’t need me to tell you what to do. I just thought maybe you needed to talk.”

 

Travis deflates and just shrugs. “Not right now, man. You were right, I do need to eat. And I need a nap. If you want to stay I’ve got peanut butter and jelly, and you can crash on the spare bed before the game?”

 

Provy nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

 

As expected Travis wakes up from his pregame nap in a foul mood. Again. At least he’s playing tonight. He tries to remind himself that every second on the ice is a chance to score and maybe if he says it enough his brain will eventually listen.

 

He nearly strangles himself yanking the knot of his tie up too harshly and Provy gives him a look when he walks into the living room in his suit still coughing faintly. TK just shrugs and Provy seems to take that as an answer. 

 

“You ready?” Provy asks, and Travis tries not to bristle but he can’t help it. Fuck Provy for treating him with kid gloves.

 

“Yeah I’m fucking ready, let’s go.”

 

“Hey,” Provy stops him with a hand to his chest and stares into his eyes intensely. “I don’t care what happens tonight but we are coming back here after the game and talking.” 

 

Travis just nods curtly and averts his gaze. “Fine, whatever, let’s go.”

 

After the game Travis breaks his stick into 4 pieces as he stomps down the tunnel. Another loss, another game where he couldn’t score. At least he wasn’t a minus but that was barely a consolation at this point. He’s already forgotten his promise to Provy until he’s tugging on his shoes ready to go and notices Provy lingering by the door waiting for him.

 

“Do we really have to do this tonight?”

 

“Are you going to sit around stewing for 3 hours and then text one of your girls for a quick fuck if we don’t?”

 

Travis sighed and didn’t respond. He might as well let Provy follow him home. If he can get Provy out of his hair he can still text Jessica later and bribe her to come over since he blew her off for Emily that morning.

 

They drive without speaking, Provy’s Russian dubstep thumping loudly instead.

 

If TK was expecting Provy to ease into this conversation, that is not what he gets. As soon as the door closes behind them Provy has grabbed his shoulder to spin him around and press him up against the wall, pinning him there with one hand.

 

“Look at me,” Provy says, voice nearly a growl. TK just glares at him, lips thinned in anger.

 

“You think you’re the only one having a bad stretch here,TK? I haven’t had a point in 4 games. G hasn’t had a goal in 5. Hell Simmer can’t even stuff one in on the power play! We are _all frustrated_. And you fucking your brains out instead of sleeping is not helping. We need you to be at your best. And not just for the fucking team. We care about you. _I_ care about you. And I need you to pull your head out of your ass and fucking take care of yourself.” 

 

By the end of his rant Provy’s forearm is pressing hard against Travis’ chest as he tries to twist out of his grasp and away from his words. 

 

“Shut up,” Travis spits out angrily, “I am taking care of myself. This is how I take care of myself. Sex is the only thing that stops me from fucking thinking. And I’m so tired of _thinking_.”

 

Provy lets out a noise that sounds like it was ripped from him and suddenly he’s kissing Travis-- bitingly, harsh, channeling his frustration and anger. It’s so startling that TK can only bite back, and he tastes iron in his mouth unsure whose blood it is.

 

“Maybe you don’t need to fuck someone, maybe you need a good fucking,” Provy growls against his mouth and Travis growls back at him, wordless.

 

“Fuck you, what do you know.”

 

“You need a good fuck? Let’s go.” And TK finds that he doesn’t want to say no. Provy’s eyes are dark with lust and pent up anger, and maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe Provy is right.

 

Travis yanks Provy in for a hard closed-mouth kiss before shoving him away again, hand still fisted in his shirt. If they’re doing this he’s not going down without a fight. So to speak. 

 

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

 

They’re both breathless by the time they make it to TK’s room, having shoved each other against each wall for biting kisses along the way. TK’s lips feel bruised and swollen, and judging by the state of Provy’s they probably are.

 

“Get your suit off,” Provy orders. “Where’s your lube?”

 

“Side table over there,” TK says gesturing with his head as he quickly strips. Provy retrieves the lube but only has his suit jacket off, and his tie and shirt undone by the time TK is naked. 

 

“On the bed,” Provy tells TK who has had about enough of being ordered around.

 

“Make me,” Travis responds defiantly, and Provy smirks at him. He’s got easily 3 inches and 30 pounds on him, and clearly doesn’t mind the challenge of wrestling TK onto the bed. 

 

Provy finally pins TK down, knees pressing down on his thighs, wrists pinned above his head. Panting and sweating, Provy stares down at him for a moment before tilting his head in question.

 

“You gonna let me fuck you now?”

 

Travis twists his wrists uselessly and snarls. Provy laughs and transfers both of TK’s wrists to one hand so he can grab the lube with the other. 

 

Provy shoves his pants down quickly and slicks himself up quickly. TK’s cock is hard between them, too, but he’s not feeling quite that generous yet. Provy presses TK’s legs open wider and presses a fingertip against his hole, spreading lube there. Travis moans beneath him and attempts to struggle. 

 

“You want me to stop, now’s the time,” Provy offers, voice nearly unrecognizable with lust. 

 

“No, no, don’t stop,” Travis shakes his head.

 

“Okay,” Provy says with a nod. “Bear down when I press in, okay? I don’t actually want to hurt you.” 

 

TK nods quickly before shutting his eyes tight in pain as Provy presses inside. The lube barely easing the way. It’s too thick, too much, and Travis feels dizzy with it. When he feels Provy stop moving he opens his eyes and sees Provy staring down at his hole where they’re joined, his teeth clenched as he fights back from the edge of orgasm.

 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” Travis pants until the sharp pain of the stretch eases into a dull ache and he feels himself relaxing against it. Provy pats his thigh reassuringly and Travis is suddenly angry again. If Provy wanted to fuck this out of him he better get to fucking.

 

“Come on, you going to fuck me?” He goads.

 

“Fuck yeah,” Provy grunts, before he pulling out just slightly and pressing inside impossibly deep. Travis grits his teeth and groans.

 

“Come onnn,” he presses again. “Come on, _fuck me_.”

 

Provy began fucking him then with long slow thrusts. The painful ache still there, until he shifted his angle just slightly and suddenly the pressure was against Travis’ prostate and he felt alight with pleasure. 

 

“Come on, come on,” Travis whines, urging him deeper now, wrapping his ankles around the back of Provy’s thighs.

 

“Greedy,” Provy says, low.

 

“Fuck, fuck, harder.” 

 

Provy obliges him, and he can feel Provy’s grip tighten on his hip. TK moans with each thrust; thinks only about the bruises he’ll wear tomorrow on his hip and wrists. Provy leans down then to bite his lip hard before sucking at his neck and Travis’s pitch raises yet higher.

 

“You need something now, you come to _me_. No more 3 am booty calls. No more showing up to practice exhausted and useless. You need something, you come to _me_.” Provy punctuates each thought with a hard snap of his hips, and TK’s breath feels like it’s being punched out of him with every thrust.

 

It’s almost a surprise when he comes. No hand on his dick just the cock in his ass. He feels wrung out, he feels like he ran a marathon, he can’t think of anything other than the cock still thrusting inside him as Provy chases his orgasm. Little rabbit thrusts until he stills and spills with a groan.

 

Provy pulls out slowly, both boys hissing as his cock withdraws. He lets go of Travis’ wrists, and Travis throws an arm over his eyes, the lights in the room suddenly too bright. He can feel the come dripping out his ass, the lube drying itchy around his sore hole. 

 

“Fuck, I need a shower.”

 

“Nah, stay there,” Provy says, and gets up to pad to the bathroom. He comes back, naked now, must've left his pants and shirt in the bathroom, and wipes Travis down lightly with a warm washcloth. 

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

"We're talking in the morning."

 

"Okay."

 

Travis sleeps through the night for the first time in 4 weeks.


End file.
